


through the warmthest cord of care

by atat



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Villanelle | Oksana Astankova, F/F, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Spanking, Strap-Ons, Top Eve Polastri, eventual soft sex because i just literally cannot help myself, fluffy kink discussions, just a smidge of degradation, literally no plot whatsoever. let me live my life, sexy rewards, spanking with feelings like what kind of advanced depraved shit, the filthiest kink of them all: Feelings, their love is soft and violent and its fuckin me up a lil, this is extremely filthy. dirty. scrub urself clean afterwards., villanelle w a powerpoint presentation behind her: so heres how much of a bottom id like to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26309218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atat/pseuds/atat
Summary: Villanelle would like to try something different. Eve is nothing but willing.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 34
Kudos: 158





	through the warmthest cord of care

**Author's Note:**

> i actually have a multi-chapter thing i have not touched in weeks and for that i am sorry. i promise i haven't forgotten about it. funky prison au will still happen!
> 
> this just honestly came tf out and it's the most fun i've had in writing in a while! strap yourselves in (ha) because it's a Ride.
> 
> (fic title from hidden place by bjork. sexy song. very pretty very them.)

“Eve... can I ask you something?” 

Villanelle is fidgeting. Eve feels like she’s seeing something from the uncanny valley. Not unreal enough to be impossible, but nevertheless… unusual. It isn’t exactly entirely new, Villanelle has shown a bit of this softer, unsure side of herself, but it’s normally met with a lot more… resistance from herself. Now she just seems like she’s trying very hard to let something out.

Eve is a little wary, understandably, but she still can’t tolerate the small frown that creases the other woman’s brow, so she replies,

“Of course, baby. What’s up?”

Villanelle snaps her gaze back up to Eve’s face. Her mouth opens. No sound comes out. Eve’s wariness increases as does her curiosity. What the hell made Villanelle get into this state? The psychological analyst in her physically can’t wait to hear what will come out of her mouth. The compassionate human in her just decides to wait until she’s ready to let it.

“What do you like about being with me?” Villanelle rushes out in a single breath. At Eve’s blank processing face, she continues quickly, “I mean- during… sex. And stuff like that.”

Villanelle is talking coyly of sex and Eve feels like she has whiplash. 

It’s been a little while since they’ve been doing… whatever this is, but she is still thrilled at seeing a more vulnerable part of her, as if she knew it had to exist, somewhere, but to be in the actual _presence_ of it is… a little dizzying. The question is vague though, and Eve feels the need to get at what she really means. Pushing Villanelle’s badly oiled communication machine to work just a little harder for her to be understood. Because it feels important. Not much of what she says feels that important or serious, brattiness and sarcastic remarks being her main mode, but this is different.

Villanelle looks pained while she waits for Eve to respond.

“Um… I’m not sure what you mean.”

The crease in her brows digs deeper, and Villanelle closes her eyes while she tries to elaborate. 

“I mean…” She splutters a bit. Takes a deep breath in. “I’d like to try something different.”

“…Okay?” 

Eve is really confused now. Villanelle is being… shy. And it’s about sex. Eve felt like she was going to be the shy one at first, surprising them both at how much her lack of experience counted when it came to their first times. She hadn’t really had that many experiences with women, before. Drunk college hookups that had lead to nothing being the full extent of it, actually. But as it turns out, having next to no previous encounters with women barely matters when it comes to them. They just exude pure chemistry. Bodies moving in an unsung rhythm as old and as natural as taking a breath. There was no place for hesitation when there was this much enthusiasm. Also, Eve prides herself in being a very quick learner. 

They’ve barely had a single awkward experience, much to their mutual delight. Usually with a relatively new partner it can feel like… trying to fit two very different parts together. With them, it just instantly fit. Two pieces on a puzzle. She can’t imagine whatever Villanelle wants to try being any different.

“It’s just that I haven’t done… um, things like this before.” Villanelle says, looking at Eve’s face again.

“I feel like that’s meant to be my line.” Eve jokes, hoping to make Villanelle more comfortable with what she’s trying to say.

Villanelle doesn’t react. Oh, this must _actually_ be important, then.

By now, she’s pretty sure Villanelle is about to get into some kind of kink discussion. Eve’s not the most experienced in kinks, either. God-forbid, her sexual history with men is boring enough. Married sex isn’t really the most exciting thing. And before that… Well. She’s experimented a little bit, trying things. Eve’s curiosity was always a bit tickled by any new things, until she decided she’d wanted to settle. A brief encounter with a boy she’d met at her earlier years, pre-marriage, flashes briefly through her mind, awkward fumbling and a pair of handcuffs. She’d had fun. Eve can’t imagine Villanelle breaking her cool for something as simple as that, though.

Villanelle still looks unsure of herself. Eve scrambles to reassure her, her voice soft.

“It’s okay… I’m sure it’s worth a try. You know that I’m always willing, right? You don’t need to be nervous.” She mutters, and reaches to put a strand of honey-blond hair that had fallen into her face back behind the woman’s ear.

Villanelle bites her lip at the affection like it brings her pain. She is clearly not used to the attention and it makes Eve’s urge to tackle her to the bed and smother her with it even more difficult to suppress, a deep impulse coming from the most primal of places. Who gave this asshole the right to be so… adorable? She’s supposed to be the evil one.

“Okay.” Villanelle says. “But you can’t judge me.” She adds, serious. “That’s the rule.”

Eve laughs at her shyness, thoroughly enraptured by the display. It breaks off the tension a little more between them, ringing out through the room and filling the empty spaces within. Makes it feel less serious. Villanelle smiles back at her, and she feels relieved. She trusts Eve.

“I’m not gonna judge you, idiot. Seriously just come out with it already, I feel like I’m losing my mind with you being all…” Eve says in between laughs, gesturing vaguely at Villanelle.

Villanelle starts playing with a loose thread on the bed’s duvet and Eve can’t stop staring at her long, elegant, newly nervous fingers. She’s only human.

“Okay. So… I’ve been reading, online. And I think I want to try maybe not being… in control of um- stuff. I know that you like it when I am, and I like it too, but this… I think it’s-“

Villanelle cuts off mid-sentence. Eve takes her hand, and squeezes it gently. Villanelle looks like she has never struggled so hard, and Eve wants her to know that they are past this, that they can trust each other. Villanelle could choose to fall and Eve would gladly catch her, every time.

“I think I need it.”

The urgency in her voice takes her a little unawares, but the sheer honesty in it makes her chest swell with pride. The confession slots into place in her ever growing knowledge of Villanelle, of Oksana. Old habits die hard, and she never really intended to stop pondering over the subject of her obsession, not when it _still_ feels this intoxicating, not when it has brought her so much good, hand in hand with all of the bad. The duality of their connection has always been a powerful magnet. 

The difference between mere obsession and… What they have now, is ever so visible, though. Villanelle is far from being a mere subject, there to be prodded at and examined. The way that this fixation could be impersonal, not accommodating is a far away concept. It could be much like a fantasy, not achievable, and therefore unreal. 

It is real, now, between them. Eve sees Villanelle for who she is, not for who Eve, or anyone else, wants her to be.

She pictures assassin Villanelle, in a ploy to always dominate, to have the upper hand, while being in fact, in a position of very little actual power. The violence only grants you a specific kind of it, and what kind of power even is it, to take lives by the orders of others? She has never really had the control when it mattered, being a mere pawn in a game of chess neither of them could ever grasp the full dimensionality of.

The fact that she is willing to put herself in this position, to lay bare, to be vulnerable, shows such an amount of growth that she understands exactly the reason for hesitation. And the value of her perseverance by telling Eve, regardless.

Eve smiles brightly at the dork in front of her and pulls her in for a kiss. It’s short and sweet.

“Of course, honey. Thank you for telling me.” Eve says, their faces still mere inches apart after the brief kiss. She tilts her head down, noses at Villanelle’s jaw and she tilts her head upwards for her. “You were so brave.” Eve mumbles, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her neck.

Eve feels Villanelle shiver, and she doesn’t fully know if it’s for the words, or the touch, or both. What she does know is that she can definitely get used to this. Her evident influence in Villanelle has never been that hard to fathom, but the way that it is amplified when they are like this, the way it is made that much more discernible makes Eve ignite, deep inside. It’s… good. She likes it, a whole lot.

“You really like that, huh.” Eve mutters onto her neck. She decides to play with it a little more, dragging her tongue over the skin that’s clasped around her lips. When she goes to add a rasp of teeth into the mix, Villanelle shivers again, more violently, and lets out a gasp. 

She takes Eve by the shoulders and pulls her back, somewhat abruptly. Her face is painted a deep pink. Eve delights in the responsiveness. It feels new, still, every touch. She wonders briefly if their influence in each other will ever dull. Every touch they give each other still carries the rush of the first. It’s exhilarating.

“Yes. I like it.”

Eve smirks.

“But before, I think we should still um… talk more…”

“Oh, there’s more, is there.” Eve teases. She can’t help it. Villanelle is being cute.

Villanelle gives a secret sort of smile. Her face is still colored pink, the contrast with her pale skin jumping out at Eve and taking her by the gut. 

“You look so pretty when you blush, baby.” Eve rasps out, just to rile her up more. She’s already picking up on the more submissive nature of this Villanelle, her tells and what makes her tick. It’s pretty clear she likes the praise. She can’t wait for whatever ‘more’ is.

Villanelle, as anticipated, blushes even harder. It’s so frustratingly cute.

“Eve. Please.” Villanelle says, aiming for warning, but probably ending up a bit more towards supplicating. “Keep it in your pants. For now, at least.”

“Sorry.” Eve says, not really meaning it.

Eve waits. Villanelle does the open-mouth-no-sound thing again, and she wonders if that’s all it takes for her to break. Being the only one to witness this side of the unshakeable personality that is Villanelle is the most flattering thing she’s felt in years. 

Villanelle gets up suddenly then, leaving a befuddled Eve on their bed. Okay, she wasn’t expecting that. She steps out of the room, walking fast. 

As soon as she left, though, she comes back. With a laptop. Eve laughs louder.

“What?” Villanelle says, sitting opposite Eve again.

“Nothing it’s just- It’s nothing. Keep going, please.”

Villanelle pouts.

“This is serious, Eve.”

Eve stifles her delight a bit. She doesn’t want to make Villanelle uncomfortable.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I promise I’m not making fun of you, it’s just… cute. How you’ve prepared. I like it.”

Villanelle seems satisfied with that, opening up the laptop.

“I’ve made a… list. With things I thought I might like to try. And I read that it is good to make sure that the, um… dominant and the submissive are both on the same page about that.”

A list. The thought of Villanelle going through actual research about it, wanting to get it right makes Eve want to try just as hard. It’s clearly very important for her. It’s also very adorable of her, showing a practicality and planning that she wouldn’t normally expect from spontaneous prone to sex-in-clumsy-places Villanelle. Hearing her refer to them both as ‘dominant and submissive’ feels like a fish hook on her belly, dragging it down. A very warm and velvety fish hook. Or something like that. It’s hot.

“I’ve put in other things, too, that maybe you might like… The ones that I really want to try are highlighted, but I’ve put in other stuff. Just in case. I am open to all of it.”

“Okay.”

Villanelle doesn’t move.

“So… Can I see it?”

A beat.

“Yes. You can see it. But I want you to think about this, okay? It’s uh… important. To me.”

“I know. I’ll look it over with care, don’t worry. You can trust me.”

Villanelle turns the screen towards Eve.

It’s more of a grid than an actual list, the items stemming more than one page, with Villanelle’s notes on almost every one at the side of it, and Eve is already thinking she’ll need time to google some of it. She starts at the top, going down, and _\- Ageplay. Anal/vaginal plugs (small). Anal/vaginal plugs (large). Anal/vaginal plugs (public). Asphyxiation. Bathroom use control. Begging. Beating (soft). Beating (hard). Blindfolds. Bloodplay. Being of service. Being bitten. Being praised. Bondage (light). Bondage (heavy). Breath control. Collars. Degradation-_

Something in her face must alert Villanelle because she starts rambling, “Like I said, if you are not comfortable with anything, it’s okay, we do need to trust each other for this to work, so it is really-“

Eve’s not fully listening though, her eyes going through each item on the list, avoiding looking at any of Villanelle’s commentary for now, her brain being unable to deal with all of this information. Images of Villanelle in all of these situations perpetrate her every thought and it’s just… A lot at once. She feels herself growing warmer and warmer at every single item, the idea of a deeply submissive Villanelle, in this kind of play appeasing to a part of herself she wasn’t even fully aware existed.

“Eve?” Villanelle eventually cuts through her reverie, with a voice that suggests it’s not the first time she’s said it.

Eve looks back up just as Villanelle closes the lid of the laptop and pushes it to the side.

Villanelle shuffles a little closer to her.

“I know it’s a lot-“

Eve cuts her off with a kiss. What starts as a simple, instinctive motion, deepens, Eve’s tongue sliding deeper. She hopes the excitement is made noticeable by it, the passion. Eve works Villanelle’s lower lip in between her teeth. They stay like that for a while, communicating what can’t be put into words.

It’s Eve that breaks away, eventually. 

“It is a lot. I’m not gonna pretend like I know what all of these mean, but I’m so glad you decided to talk to me about this. I’m so proud of you, honey…”

Villanelle bites her own lip. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” Eve says, smiling at her with the radiance of the sun. It lights up Villanelle from the inside out, eliminating all the dark corners of insecurity, of uncertainness.

“I’m going to look this over, properly, okay? And we can start experimenting-”

Villanelle jumps her before she can finish the sentence, knocking Eve backwards into the bed in an unexpected, but very well received embrace.

Once Villanelle calms down a bit, she lays on Eve’s chest, her hands on Villanelle’s hair. 

Eve says, a little dreamily, “I can’t wait to do all of that to you.”

Villanelle honest to God giggles. And it’s a sound Eve wants on repeat for the rest of her entire life.

“I can’t wait either.”

* * *

Villanelle buys things online. She asks Eve about preferences, all ‘How long do you want this dildo to be?’, and ‘What color would you prefer the handcuffs?’ and Eve is more and more excited at every single item that arrives. She buys a few things herself, for once not embarrassed at spending Villanelle’s literal blood-money. She buys a flogger and a leather paddle, after a long reading session about where it’s safest to hit, techniques for aftercare, things a dominant should know in a scene like this. The thought of having Villanelle’s body all to her disposal and to her own pleasure gets so much at times she buys a double-headed dildo, too, impulsively. It doesn’t take the edge off. They’ve agreed to ease into some of the heavier stuff a little later, when they’ve properly settled into each role comfortably. 

They haven’t had sex since the first strap-on arrived, Villanelle being so excited about it that the minute that the nondescript cardboard box arrived at their flat, Villanelle instantly ripped the package open, running over to Eve, who was just watching some cooking-show on their TV, having her attention immediately snap at Villanelle holding a big silicone dick and a smile on her face. The image was so much that Eve started laughing immediately.

She barely had a chance to turn the TV off, or react in any other way, really, before Villanelle was on her knees in front of her, hands reaching her button and zipper with a single minded intent that was honestly kind of hard to dispute. Eve got up to help her, and she stepped into the straps of the leather harness, Villanelle adjusting the buckles until it was nice and snug on her crotch.

The second that it was on, Villanelle pushed her back down on the couch, and yeah okay, this was happening. Villanelle took her own pants and underwear off with a less than elegant flair, and soon enough she was climbing over Eve, holding the back of the couch for support. 

Eve immediately reached for her cunt, finding it warm and wet, just for her.

“So eager.” Eve whispered with a smile, parting her labia with her fingers, pressing down with her middle finger right at her clit. 

Villanelle shudders a bit, breathing out, her body instinctively recoiling at the pressure.

“Fuck. Eve.” She sighs, grinding back into Eve’s hand, submitting her body to slight overstimulation, making her feel ever so helpless at Eve’s hand. It feels almost violent. And so, so good.

One of Eve’s hands meet her hips, the other aligning the cock at the right angle, and Villanelle looks at her, mouth parted, gaze heavy-lidded.

Eve insists on keeping eye-contact when she pushes Villanelle down, not stopping the pressure until Villanelle isn’t holding herself up anymore, all of her weight pressing down on the cock that’s seated fully inside of her.

When she goes to shut her eyes, a helpless moan ripping out of her, Eve snaps,

“Look at me. Don’t you dare close your eyes.”

Villanelle complies, looking into Eve’s eyes with so much reverence and pleasure that Eve moans too, thrusting her hips upwards, making the cock go even deeper into Villanelle, her body falling a little forwards into Eve’s, who connects their mouths, in a not-quite-kiss, sighing out into her mouth as Villanelle whimpers at the feeling.

“How does that feel, baby?” Eve says, breathlessly, holding Villanelle’s body still with her hands while she pulls out a little, her feet at the ground working to her advantage when she thrusts in again.

“Full.” She moans out. “It feels so full, Eve, fuck.’” Villanelle whimpers when Eve thrusts in again, and she can’t deal with the way she sounds. Desperate and needy and lewd. She can’t get enough.

Eve delights in the way that she can touch her like this, hands free to do whatever while her hips work, hands grabbing for the hem of her shirt and pulling it off of her in a second. Villanelle shakes herself free of the shirt, throwing it to the ground and moving her hips upwards of her own accord, getting more of the feeling of the toy inside of her. Eve moves to pinch her nipples, immediately being rewarded with Villanelle arching her back to further push her breasts into her hands.

Eve drops her gaze lower, and just watches, transfixed at the sight of Villanelle’s cunt swallowing up the toy, wet and vulgar. One of her hands leaves her breast to palm at her ass, helping her movements, up and down.

Villanelle is still looking into Eve’s eyes when she looks back up, and the sight nearly knocks Eve over. She is panting, brow furrowed with so much _need_ in her eyes that Eve knows she is doomed forever. She’ll be damned if she doesn’t see this sight for the rest of her entire life. It feels exactly like a shot of hard adrenalin straight into her veins, making her let out a growl, digging in with her nails into the softness of Villanelle’s buttocks. 

Villanelle falls forward, knocking Eve further into the couch. She tangles her fingers into Eve’s curls, pushing their mouths together messily. Eve tries to keep a rhythm with the thrusting, Villanelle’s moans pitching higher with each movement of Eve’s hips.

They kiss, clumsily still, until Eve’s effort makes her gasp for air, grasping Villanelle’s lower lip with her teeth while she pulls back. She pulls, hard, and she knows Villanelle would not complain even if she drew blood.

“Hurt me. Fuck, Eve, fuck me-“

Eve complies, taking her hands and dragging her nails down Villanelle’s back, the soft, scorching skin getting even warmer at the contact.

Villanelle nearly comes right then, the pain mixing together so well with all of her arousal, but she is still tip-toeing right around the edge, so close to a fall-

Eve’s hands come to a stop at her hips, holding her up while she does the motion herself, thrusting upwards with so much force she is already feeling the strain at her lower back and thighs. Villanelle’s hand comes to her clit, rubbing and circling with such speed that Eve knows she will come at any second.

Villanelle throws her head back, her thighs trembling at the stimulation, and she comes to rest leaning over Eve, one hand on the back of the couch, steadying herself, the weight of her own body being too much for her to be able to hold up anymore. The motion brings her breasts right to Eve’s face and she latches onto a nipple while thrusting harder at the improved angle and-

Villanelle’s moans stop for a split second, trailing off, and Eve knows she’s hit climax. Her cries returns a second later, her body grinding down fiercely, riding out the waves. Eve wishes she could feel her cunt clenching around her, now more than ever, knows she is coming so hard right now it would feel incredible. Eve slaps at her ass, roughly.

“Fuck yes. Come for me, come on.”

Villanelle is completely out of it, driven mad with lust, but she still manages,

“ _Shit_ , please, please, do it again, Eve-“ She nearly shouts, and Eve is too enraptured by the sheer display of messy, needy, Villanelle to worry about neighbors, to worry about noise, to worry about literally anything else, really. There isn’t anything else in the whole entire world, so Eve takes her hand and slaps Villanelle across her backside again, in three rapid hits, Villanelle still coming against her.

She shudders on top of Eve, letting herself fall, spent and panting and whiny and Eve can feel her own wetness close to dripping onto the couch. 

Jesus fuck, they’ll have to do this with a towel down or something next time.

* * *

Afterwards, Eve marveled at the handprints of her hands on the other woman’s ass, and got herself off while only letting Villanelle watch. It was… A good start to their activities. 

Now, though, Eve waits for her… things to arrive, and holds Villanelle at arm’s length when she tries to initiate anything.

Villanelle’s constantly pulling out all the stops on her admittedly pretty hard to resist seduction game. Eve truly only manages out of spite. The determination to be the best dom for her, making up for it.

The waiting will only make things more intense, for both of them, and Eve thrills at being able to hold herself back, to be the decider. The abstinence is just as hot as the act itself. Well, not the waiting, but Villanelle’s stages from pleading to eventually accepting that what Eve says goes. How Villanelle just resigns to it, not even touching herself when Eve tells her not to. 

She hasn’t had an orgasm in days. Or so Eve thinks.

Eve is just coming home from a run, sweaty and slightly sore, swiping a chilled water bottle from the bridge when a noise makes her stop in her tracks.

It sounds like moaning. A few months ago, she’d immediately reach for the knife in their kitchen drawer, the way they were constantly on edge. Now, though, the options for what it could be are lower. And if it is what she’s thinking, well. Villanelle won’t be happy at the consequences.

She pushes herself off the counter, having drained the water bottle fully, still listening to the sounds. They’re not overtly loud, not performative, but it’s enough for Eve to be able to tell, light gasps and the occasional little squeak. Yep, it’s definitely Villanelle. Unless she is having some kind of intense yoga workout right now, she can’t imagine being too pleased when she finally sees what her lover is up to.

Eve pushes open the door to the bedroom slowly, and Villanelle immediately looks up.

Eve takes her in for a second. She has her pants down to her knees, lying down in the bed. In one of her hands she has one of the vibrators they had just bought, a wireless hitachi wand and a look on her face that instantly reminds Eve of her childhood dog getting caught stealing food straight from the kitchen table.

It flashes through her face for only a second though, a forcibly relaxed expression that honestly could’ve worked on anyone that didn’t know her as well as Eve does. Or on anyone that didn’t just find her with her figurative hand down her figurative pants.

“Eve! You’re home early!” Villanelle says like she hasn’t just been caught breaking the single, simple rule that Eve had set out. She’s still slightly out of breath.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Great! I was thinking, we could order in from that Italian place we went to last week-“ 

“Villanelle. Cut the shit. What do you think you’re doing?”

Villanelle still doesn’t move from her position, her lower body still spread out and Jesus, she’s wet as hell, the skin glistening, her cunt slightly swollen with the stimulation, but Eve refuses to let the enticing image get her off track. Eve waits. Villanelle finally moves then, letting the wand fall from her hand to the mattress, its tip glistening slightly with the light that comes through the window. 

Villanelle takes her now free hands and drags them across her own face. She lets out a groan.

“Eve.” She complains. “It has been so long.”

“It’s barely been four days.”

Villanelle glares at her.

“Four days is forever. I have never been without an orgasm for that long, ever.”

Eve scoffs.

“Bullshit. And even so, you should know better than to disobey.”

Villanelle has the gall to look excited at Eve’s tone.

“Ooh, are you going to punish me, Eve?” She taunts.

Eve chuckles. She reaches the bed, purposefully slowing down her gait so Villanelle will take her in, sweaty clothes and a shine to her skin. She still looks blissfully ignorant. 

“You have no idea.” Eve whispers, leaning down to reach the waistband of the pants that are down the other woman’s knees.

Villanelle bites her lip. She’s already pushing her hips off the bed, hoping to help Eve get the garment off, when-

Eve pushes it up her hips instead, quickly doing up the zipper and button.

Villanelle looks down at the zipper. Then looks back up at Eve.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Eve says with a smile.

“Please don’t.” Villanelle says, and God, does she look pretty when she’s being polite.

“How many times?” Eve presses.

“What?” 

“Before I came in. How many times did you come without permission, Oksana?”

Villanelle widens her eyes a bit at the name. It’s another agreement they had settled on, the separation between Villanelle and Oksana, the blonde’s appreciation for being called by her given name during a scene. Eve is nothing but accommodating. The switch makes sense. Eve likes calling her by her given name, too. It feels… intimate.

“Uh-“

“Before you even think about lying, know that the way this is gonna go for you depends only on whether you’re good from now on. I’ll know if you lie, Oksana. Don’t try to test me.” Eve cuts her off, not unkindly. Only warning. Slightly disappointed. 

Villanelle sits back straight. She looks properly scolded now, not looking at Eve, and she doesn’t even know what Eve plans to do to her. Eve doesn’t like making her feel like this, not truly. She likes respect. She knows Villanelle is capable of it. She just needs the right push.

“How many?” Eve demands.

“…Two”

“Okay.” Eve nods, looking at Villanelle’s face, who is staring at the door. “I believe you.”

“Really?” Villanelle says, hopeful, meeting their eyes again.

“Yes. Listen, I know it’s been… tough. But you can’t go behind my back like that. You need to tell me. You need to trust my decisions.”

“I do, I just-“ Villanelle pipes in, rushing to say something, anything that would make Eve sound less… disappointed in her. She can’t stand it. She’d much rather have angry Eve. She comes up empty.

“Are you disappointed in me?” Villanelle asks, softly.

Eve reaches to touch her face. She cradles it in her palm, a parallel of times long gone. She strokes Villanelle’s cheekbone with her thumb, and Villanelle leans into it.

“I am, right now. But I know you’ve been trying really hard for me, darling.” Eve replies, not stopping the little circular motion of her thumb.

Villanelle smiles a little, relishing the softness. “I really have.”

“I still need to punish you, though.”

Villanelle giggles.

“I’m okay with that.”

Eve pulls her in for a kiss. Not an I-forgive-you kiss, but an I-know-it-feels-new-but-we’re-in-it-together kiss. Villanelle hums into it, and Eve retreats before she can try to deepen it. Her hand stays at Villanelle’s hair.

“Right now though, I need a shower.” Eve eyes the wand, sitting at Villanelle’s other side. She smirks. “If only you’d been a good girl for me, I could even have let you join me…” Eve muses, stroking her hair, the nape of her neck.

Villanelle looks like a child who’s just been denied ice-cream.

Eve pulls at her hair, just a little. She kisses the corner of her mouth, not being able to resist.  
  
“Don’t give me that face. You know you deserve it.”

* * *

Villanelle wasn’t expecting it to be this… hard. The entire submission thing. She was good at most things. She is not that good at being denied. She feels like a horny teenager, willing to do anything just to get off. Eve has been torturing her, with her perfect hair, and her perfect body and her denial of Villanelle’s propositions. 

When Eve comes out of her shower, only a towel covering her dripping, gleaming skin, Villanelle is suddenly very grateful that she managed to get an orgasm or two before Eve came home. Damn the consequences. She can deal with them. Four fucking days was torture.

Eve notices Villanelle’s hungry eyes on her and smirks to herself. She goes to their closet, standing near her big wardrobe and stops for a second. She goes to look over her own shoulder at Villanelle, more enticingly than she even realizes.

Villanelle’s eyes keep darting down and back up, trying to take everything at once. Her mouth is just slightly open.

Eve drops the towel.

Villanelle lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Eve is fucking gorgeous. What the hell. Villanelle stares and stares. At the slight curve of her back, the little dimples there. Eve’s thighs. Her pert ass. Her wet hair, curls still dripping a little. One droplet falls off one of them, and Villanelle traces its pathway down, down, until it settles on her lower back. Thank god she did manage to get an orgasm before this. She already needs more. 

Eve turns her head back to the wardrobe, pulling out clothes and underwear and Villanelle can’t believe she’s already going to put on clothes, so soon. As much as she likes clothes, if she had her way Eve would never, ever, wear any of them again.

Villanelle rises from the bed, walking over to Eve quickly. When she reaches her, Eve is static, hands full of clothes. Villanelle leans her head on Eve’s shoulder. It’s still a little wet and the skin is warm, and God, Villanelle wants Eve on her tongue, wants Eve to lay down on their bed and to have all of her, head between legs and fingers deep inside.

“Can I make it up to you? Please.”

Eve scoffs.

“You can make it up to me by doing what I say for once.”

Villanelle drops a kiss on her neck. Inhales. She smells like shampoo and cleanness and Villanelle aches to drown in it. The scent is heady and inebriating.

“What do you want me to do?”

Eve takes a ragged breath in. Her voice is slightly raspy when she says, “Go to the bed. Lay on your hands and knees. Head down.”

An electric current passes through Villanelle, straight down. It settles, fiercely, between her legs. She retreats back to the bed, does as she’s told.

Knees supporting her, ass up in the air. She lays on her folded arms.

The vulnerableness of the position makes the warmth of her gut pulse. She’s not even naked. She feels naked though, head turned away from Eve, on display like this. It feels a little nerve-racking. She heaves a shaky sigh. Waiting.

She hears the rustling of fabric, mourns the loss of pretty naked Eve. She’s still pretty with clothes on, though. Especially commanding, angry Eve. Villanelle waits and waits and it’s probably been 30 seconds at the most, and yet it feels like hours.

The padding of bare feet on the hardwood floor of the bedroom is recognizable. It’s making her ridiculously wet, she knows without needing to check, the anticipation. The suspense. She knows that Eve will probably want to… discipline her, now. It’s enough to make her impatient. Nervous. Not that she’d ever admit it to anyone. Least of all to herself.

The sounds of Eve’s steps are gone, having disappeared somewhere off. Villanelle thinks she might’ve left the room. She whines at the idea of Eve leaving her here, sitting pretty for hours. She decides to chance a glance from behind her shoulder and- Oh shit. Eve’s still there, standing by the door.

“ _Don’t_ turn.” Eve grumbles.

Villanelle snaps her gaze back to the duvet. Eve sounds… close to pissed. She doesn’t want to make it any harder on herself, so Villanelle rushes to comply. She hears Eve opening up the chest of drawers near the bed, rummaging through it.

“Is there anything you want to say before we start?”

“Um… no?”

Eve stops rummaging. Something lands on the bed, next to her thigh.

“No apologies?”

“Do you want me to apologize?”

Eve hums behind her. Contemplative. Or appreciative? It’s hard to tell. It’d be easier if she could see her face, if only then she could know what Eve wants from her.

“I want you to think about what you did.” Eve palms her ass, through the fabric. The pants Villanelle is wearing are soft, not very rough on her skin. Silky and smooth. The contact feels good. She knows Eve is not doing it for her benefit though. It makes her hot, knowing Eve is getting off on having her all to herself. “Tell me why what you did was wrong.”

“I… I disobeyed. I got off when you told me not to.”

Eve’s hand slides a little upwards, plays with the waistband, gripping it. Her other hand comes to rest on her left buttock, kneading it a little bit.

“And why was that not the right move, Oksana?”

She has to physically hold herself back from leaning her ass into the contact. It feels so sweet. She knows Eve wouldn’t like it, though. Her breath starts coming quicker.

“Because- because I’m… yours. I’m not meant to come by myself.”

Eve hums again. Was that what she wanted to hear? Villanelle feels terrible about it, now. They had agreed that she wouldn’t masturbate unless Eve told her to. Villanelle’s pleasure was up to her, only. She was selfish. She let her own lust take her over. Okay, she’ll fucking admit it, she’s nervous. It’s just… new, having to rely completely on Eve, something she’s definitely not used to. She is used to taking. She is used to having whatever she wants, when she wants it. What she wants, though, now, desperately, is for Eve to take the choice away from her. To serve, to only please Eve. And she fucked up. She made Eve disappointed in her. It feels like shit. She wants Eve to take it out on her. She needs her to. Fuck, does she need it.

Eve starts to pull the waistband down. Villanelle helps her slide the pants off, lifting up her knees off the bed. The cold air barely does anything for how warm her skin feels. She feels like she could burn straight through the bedding, the second that she bears down with her bare knees again.

“That’s right. You weren’t meant to do that. You just couldn’t help yourself, though, could you?” Eve says, playing with the edge of her panties, tracing the outline of it. God, she hopes Eve takes it off. She just knows it’s already stained through with how wet she is.

It’s only when Eve slaps her thigh, not too hard, but enough to shock her, away from teasing touches and soft examining, that she realizes Eve wanted an answer. 

“Could you?” Eve demands levelly, and her voice isn’t angrier, it’s not anything. It’s just… controlled. It’s fucking hot. Villanelle gets her breath back enough to answer, a second later.

“No. I couldn’t.”

“And what does that make you, Oksana?”

“What… what does that make me?” Her own voice is breathy. A far cry from Eve’s composed tone.

“A good slut or a bad slut?” Eve supplies, helpfully. Voice teasing. Fuck.

Villanelle bites her lip so hard she might actually draw blood. Eve’s teasing is going to make her explode. Her head is already spinning with lust. She tries squeezing her thighs together, searching for friction, when Eve slaps her other thigh. Rougher this time. Villanelle gasps at the contact.

“Answer me.”

“Bad.”

“Bad…?”

“I was a bad slut, Eve. Fuck. I’m sorry.” Villanelle breathes out, mashing her face against the covers immediately in embarrassment. It burns, blazing hot and shameful. She’s never felt as far gone. It’s like the edges of reality are blurry, like she barely recognizes the words, but knows they come from deep down. Eve has barely fucking touched her. She didn’t even need to.

“That’s right, you were. We’ve barely started this and you already broke one of the most important rules. I honestly don’t know what to do with you.”

“Fuck, Eve, I’m so sorry.” She mumbles, half against the pillows.

“Speak up.” Eve slaps again, slightly harder, on her left buttock. Villanelle pulls away instinctively from the touch, whining.

She turns her head, speaking as clearly as she can manage with how fucking turned on she is, “I’m so sorry I was bad, please Eve. Please- let me make it up to you.”

Eve handles her ass again, with both hands. She feels the tips of Eve’s hair grazing her thighs, the strands still damp, and it’s the only warning she gets for when Eve bites down.

Villanelle moans. It’s not too harsh, but then Eve is soothing the bite with her tongue and Villanelle honestly feels like she could come from just that, with how worked up she already is.

Eve pulls away again.

“I’m going to give you thirty hits. I want you to count, and then thank me after each one. Okay?”

Villanelle’s mind is reeling. “Okay.”

“Repeat it back to me.” Eve soothes, hands dragging up and down her lower back, all the way to the back of her legs.

“I need to count. And then thank you.”

“Good girl. Do you remember the safe words?”

Villanelle shivers at the praise. She wants to take it so bad, she wants Eve to think she’s good again.

“Green is continue, yellow is slow down. Red, stop.” Villanelle recites.

30 hits. She can take 30. She’s had enough beatdowns in her life. Her pain tolerance is pretty high. It feels like a surmountable obstacle, a pathway to Eve’s good graces again. She knows she’s never been more eager to just get through it, though. Is already desperate for the aftermath. All she needs to do is to take this. 

Eve slides her fingers under the fabric of the panties, making sweet, brief contact with her hips, and then she’s pulling them off too, Villanelle lifting her knees up again a little shakily.

It comes away wet. Drenched, really. Villanelle feels her face flush in embarrassment. Eve seems to like it though, if her slight chuckle means anything.

As soon as they’re off, Villanelle feels the contact of smooth leather against her backside, leans a little into the touch. It’s gentle, rubbing. She knows it is the equivalent of the calm after a storm. She takes it as such, relishing.

The contact is gone. She can hear a slight whoosh, doesn’t even have time to brace herself before-

The paddle hits. It’s not too hard, but the first one wouldn’t be. It still jolts her though, the pain more jarring than anything just yet. She remembers she has to count, suddenly.

“One. Thank you, Eve.” She says, a little wobbly.

Eve rubs her with the paddle again, on the same spot. She quickly pulls the paddle back and hits her in the opposite cheek. This one’s harder, and she gets out, “Two. Thank you” Before Eve immediately hits her again, on the same spot.

Villanelle’s body is tingling and the pain is starting to feel delicious, sizzling in her skin. It stings nicely, and Eve gives her more, four to five to six, each blow ringing out in the room, and Villanelle’s groans ensuing after them. _Thank you, Eve, thank you, thank you._

When they reach number fifteen, Villanelle starts leaning forward against her own hands more and more, body unconsciously to escape the pain. It’s starting to get more difficult, to take every hit. They’re hard, Eve’s not holding back, at all. Eve notices her retreating immediately and steadies her with a hand on her hips, holding her tightly as she gives another harsh hit.

“Fuck! Sixteen.” It’s starting to sting really fucking badly now. Her skin feels boiling hot and Eve just doesn’t stop, barely giving her time before another one has hit. Her eyes sting a bit with the added pressure of Eve’s hand leaning her into the hit. It hurts. _Thank you._

“Halfway done, baby. You’re doing so good.” Eve soothes, her voice a direct contrast to the stinging pain that shakes through her body.

Another hit. Another growl. _Thank you, Eve._ This one on the backs of her thighs now. It’s stronger. There isn’t a single inch of the skin that’s currently on display to Eve that isn’t sore by now. It all burns like a single, big lesion and she knows her skin is probably an angry red.

All the blood that rushes to her backside only serves to increase the throbbing in her cunt and if she thought she was wet before, she’s fucking soaked now. Eve pays the wetness in between her legs no mind, however, but she knows it’s visible, can feel it when she slides her legs together in between hits.

Eve hits her again, closer to her lower back and Villanelle almost screams. She flinches violently at it. It _burns_.

“гребаный ад! Nineteen. Thank you, Eve.” She groans, her accent thick by now. Fuck, she’d really messed up. The regret washes over her body, bitterly mixing in with the stinging hot ache. Eve was so willing to do this for her, and she’d gone and fucked it up like it was nothing. She was so stupid, so stupid-

Eve’s strikes slice through the air, hitting her again, and again, a little lighter, but it’s still on the same spot and Villanelle feels tears in her eyes. The pain wasn’t the worse thing, even though it’s pretty fucking bad. The worst was the thought of having disappointed Eve, of having put herself in this humiliating position. The demeaning feeling makes her clit throb. Villanelle feels inadequate and wrong and she just wants Eve to be pleased with her. To smile at her again, to tell her she’s proud, to have her be with her and hold her and-

Villanelle realizes she hasn’t said anything to the latest blow, keeping Eve waiting. Too busy buried in her own arms, in the shame and her own shortcomings. She sniffles a little bit and Eve rubs her, with her palm now. Villanelle hisses at the contact.

“What’s your color, baby?” Eve checks in, voice patient and steady.

“Fuck. Green.” Villanelle says, watery. “I’m sorry”

“It’s okay, baby. You know why I have to do this, right?”

“I was- I was bad. I’m sorry, Eve. I’m so sorry.”

“You were. But you’ll learn your lesson, after this, won’t you?”

“Yes, I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, that was- fuck, that was twenty-one, thank you”

Eve gives her another hit, _thank you_ , followed by another, and Villanelle can’t even tell if the hits are harder or softer anymore, they all feel the same, building up the pain, making it close to unbearable. She takes a moment to just _feel_ the burning hot pain, relishing in it. Her ass is so fucking sore by now. She doubts she’ll be able to sit down properly for a while. The thought of carrying around Eve’s marks on her, to bear the reminders of it will continue to rile her up every time she even thinks about sitting down. Fuck. She’ll learn her lesson, alright.

“What count are we on, Oksana?” Eve asks, breaking through her ruminations.

Fuck. She lost count. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

“I- I don’t know.” Villanelle’s voice trembles a little. Shit, shit. She was even messing up the punishment. She feels like a massive fucking disappointment.

Eve must sense the panic in her voice, because she soothes her, “It’s okay, don’t worry. You’re taking it so well for me, baby, you know that right?”

“Thank you, Eve, I’m so sorry for losing count, I swear I was paying attention-“ She rambles out and Jesus christ, she’s unravelling. She wants to believe Eve telling her that she’s being good.

“Do you need me to stop? Just say the word and I’ll stop.”

“No, please, don’t stop.” Villanelle whines. It hurts, but it also feels incredibly, inexplicably good. To be taken care of like this, to be made accountable for her actions. To face consequences and take them, and have Eve with her at every step of the way. Not leaving. Just patient, and willing her to take it like she knows she can.

Eve seems to consider her for a few seconds.

“I’ll give you five more, okay darling? Do you think you can be good and take five more for me?” Eve breaks the silence with a croon, rubbing her back.

“Yes.” Villanelle sighs in relief. “Please. I want to take them.”

She can take five more. Five more and she’d have Eve with her again. Five more and she’d redeem. She starts seeing the pain for what it is. It is cleansing, like she’s being washed from all of her badness, all of her misdeeds.

“Just a little more and then I’ll take care of you honey, just a little more.”

The last five hits are the easiest. They feel good again. Not in the physical aspect, that still hurts like a fucking bitch. But there’s also the endorphins that come with it, the rush of desire because she knows she’s close to being done, so close to making up for her naughtiness. Villanelle takes the rest like a champ, and the second that she says the last _thank you_ , her body swells with relief and happiness.

Eve lays the paddle back down and rearranges Villanelle’s shaky legs so she’s laying on her stomach. Eve lies down next to her, takes in her wet, slightly swollen face and her own instantly crumbles with worry.

“Was that okay?” Eve says apprehensively.

Villanelle laughs a little. She sniffles.

“Yes. That was amazing.” Villanelle continues smiling at her. “I know I’ve sort of been telling you a lot- but… Thank you, Eve.”

Eve smiles back. She lifts up one of her hands to touch her face, to stroke it softly.

“It was my pleasure.”

They lay for a second, Villanelle recovering her breath. Eve recovering her resolve.

“I’m so fucking proud of you. You took that so well, baby.” Eve says, kissing her.

The angle is a little awkward but it honestly couldn’t matter less for either of them. She feels Villanelle smile into the kiss.

“You have no idea how pretty your little ass looks right now.” Eve mutters after they part.

Villanelle’s butt still aches, dull and sore, and she’s so, achingly, wet.

“Can I… Can I see it?” She asks, a little shyly.

“Of course, darling.” Eve says, giving her a brief kiss. “I’ll be just a second. Will you be okay by yourself for a minute?” Eve asks gently.

“Yes. Please, I really want to see.”

Eve gets up then, goes to the kitchen where she left her phone. She grabs it quickly, and comes back to their room. Villanelle is still laying on her stomach. Eve can tell by her body language that the spanking took a toll on her, the way she’s closing her eyes against the pillow. The pleasant aftermath of the sting of the pain taking over. She looks luminous, vibrant in the afterglow.

Eve straddles her legs, closer to the knee so she can get a good angle. She snaps a picture quickly and lays back down next to Villanelle. God, her ass in that photo. Red, with all of the blood that had rushed over her. She hopes Villanelle will let her keep this one forever.

Villanelle watches Eve looking at the photo. She looks so happy, just looking at it.

Eve turns the screen so Villanelle can see, too.

“Fuck.” Villanelle whispers. “That looks so fucking hot.”

Eve giggles.

“Yes it does.”

She hands over the phone to Villanelle who just gazes at it for a little while. Her eyes glazed over. Full of hunger. This is what Eve did to her. Her motions, her attention. All for her. She feels like the luckiest person in the whole entire universe.

“You were such a good girl for me, Oksana.” Eve says. She will never tire of saying it. Eve bites her lip. A mischievous look on her face. “I think you deserve a reward, sweetheart…”

Villanelle’s eyes gleam with anticipation. “Yeah?”

Eve hums.

She gets up from her laying position. She kneels on the bed, next to Villanelle’s bare back. Drags her right hand, from the back of her neck, over her shoulder blades, down the small of her back. She reaches her ass and Villanelle hisses, flinches reflectively a bit at the contact, a pleasurable sound. She reaches her thighs, and they’re still drenching wet. She plays with the slick there, gathering it up from the place where they ran down, in between her thighs, until she reaches, finally, to the other woman’s centre.

“Jesus, you’re so wet.”

“For you. All for you…” Villanelle breathes out.

Eve gathers it up, dragging it downwards, to Villanelle’s swollen clit. She circles it a bit, slow, and she can feel the breath leaving Villanelle with a soft moan.

“All for me… Such a good girl.”

She moves her fingers, thrusting them inside, to the place where she is drenched and tight and inviting, and she curls them, and Villanelle bites the pillow that she was leaning on. It still doesn’t drown out the moan that escapes her.

“Ah-Fuck, Eve, just like that” Villanelle groans into the pillow.

She settles into a comfortable rhythm, slowly, in and out, pushing and pressing the most delicious parts from the inside of her, and Villanelle feels her orgasm building, a tight spring coiling on her insides, tightening and tightening until it is ready for the release.

She keeps going with the movements, the thumb in her left hand continuing the ministrations on her clit, speeding up, and with the way that the other woman’s moans keep cresting, getting louder and more high pitched, she knows she’ll be gone soon.

“Such a perfect girl. Taking her punishment so well…” Eve whispers, “So fucking pretty for me…”

“Fuck, Eve, I’m so close, so close-“ Villanelle whines. “Don’t stop, please.” Her hips rocking slightly with the movements, and Eve speeds up, curls her fingers again inside of her _just_ so, while quickening the movement on her clit. She leans further down, and drags her tongue through Villanelle’s sore ass and her breath seems to leave her in a single second.

She moans out, loud, unashamed, her thighs trembling, and Eve knows the build-up has reached its peak. 

Villanelle’s throat is hoarse by now, her voice raw, but she gives a near scream with it, her voice higher than Eve has ever heard her, grinding her hips harder into Eve’s hands, and Eve fucks her through every wave, every jolt of her thighs, mumbling sweet nothings, _so good,_ and _just like that, sweetheart, come for me._

When she seems to calm down, content and completely spent, Eve withdraws her hands. Not before giving her pretty ass another caress, full of love and adoration. Villanelle moans at the touch on it. It feels fucking good. The pain. The pleasure. A perfect combination sending her into a blissed out state she thinks it’s pretty safe to say she’s never felt.

Villanelle is fully buried in the pillow. It’s slightly wet with drool but she can barely even feel it, doesn’t have the presence of mind to care. She’s thoroughly used up by now. Eve lays back down next to her, laying on her side. Her fingers are still wet.

“Open your mouth for me, honey.” 

Villanelle complies instantly, her eyes closed. She seems close to sleep. Eve takes the hand that was inside of her, pokes at the woman’s lip with it, and lets her suck on her fingers.

“Feel how good you taste. So fucking perfect, shit…”

Villanelle takes the fingers, feels her own flavor on them. Suckling on them. She hums happily. When Eve takes them back, she hears a little grumble of complaint. Eve chuckles.

Villanelle finally opens her eyes. Her gaze is so open, loving. Eve almost melts with it. Her heart swells.

“I think I… I love you, Eve.”

Eve beams at her. She drops a lingering kiss on the woman’s forehead, another one on her cheek. A single, final press on her lips, soft, giving.

“I love you too.” Eve says, when she pulls back.

**Author's Note:**

> i might add more chapters to this later... depending on how much i want to expand on villanelle's lil kink list... but no promises 😳
> 
> also i am kind of physically unable to make villanelle suffer anymore than she wants to, like... just let her be LOVED FUCK


End file.
